Guilt
by Theirstoryisepic
Summary: The boys had just lost their father and Dean is hurting, a lot and won't talk about. This is a story I wrote like two years ago and thought I'd publih


Sam and Dean have been at Bobby's for a while. It's been a week and a half since their father, died. The doctors don't know what the cause of death was, but the boys have their suspicions.

They won't talk about it though, well Dean won't anyway. They haven't really said anything to each other since his death.

Dean has been fixing his car up, not wanting to be in the same room as Sam. Not when he can read Dean like a book, because Sam knows he feels guilty about something. Ever since John came into Dean's room at the hospital and told him to look after Sammy, that nothing else mattered and that if he couldn't he would have to kill him. Dean promised he wouldn't tell his brother about this information.

Once John left Dean's room in the hospital he died. Dean also feels guilty at the fact that John died, It should have been Dean that died instead.

Sam would sometimes come out to Dean when he was working on the impala a few times every day and ask him if he needed any help or if he needed anything. Dean would hear what he was really asking which was 'are you okay?' Every time Dean would say to him, 'stop it Sam, I'm okay!' After that Sam would turn his back and go inside, but not this time. This time Sam put on the puppy dog face, the one that Dean couldn't resist. Every time Sam put on that face he would crumble, give in and tell him the truth. Today was different, today when Dean saw the look on Sam's face he didn't give in. This time he turned his back on Sam and continued on fixing the car.

It was around midnight that Dean came back to the house to have some food, get his six hours of sleep and then get back to fixing the Impala, but what he didn't count on was Sam waiting for him in the kitchen. Dean found Sam sitting at the table, waiting while Dean got something to eat. Sam just sat there, watching, hoping, that Dean would just let him in, but he didn't.

Dean hated this, not being able to tell Sam, about how the guilt was eating him alive and about his father's death. It was his fault that John died.

He knew it.

He knew John had made a deal with the demon, because Dean was about to die. Dean knew Sam knew this, and vice versa. He refused to talk about it; Sam saw it in his eyes.

After Dean had finished in the kitchen, he planned to get up and go straight to sleep, but when he lifted his eyes he saw his little brother staring at him with questioning eyes in the darkened room.

"I can't Sammy." Dean said to him, his voice hoarse and tears in his eyes.

Sam just kept looking at him, he wouldn't move, wouldn't say anything, just kept looking at him. Waiting.  
>Dean didn't say anything, but the expression on his face told Sam to just stop asking, stop worrying.<p>

For now anyway.

The next few days had been uneventful. Sam had put all his energy into John's research, hoping he would find something in it about how to hunt down the yellow eyed demon. Bobby had found a job a few towns over, giving them a chance to grieve and to hopefully talk things out.  
>Dean had stayed outside, fixing the Impala. He had been out there every day since they had arrived at Bobby's. From 6am until all hours of the night. Sam had left him alone, but Dean knew that it wouldn't last.<p>

After Dean had told Sam that he couldn't tell him, Dean hadn't said much to Sam or Bobby before he left. Sam decided that he would go out to Dean one last time and ask him, beg him if he had to, what was wrong.

The minute Dean saw Sam he told him to go away, to leave him alone, but Sam just stood there, waiting, hoping, and wishing he would tell him. Dean saw that in his eyes but didn't say anything. He just didn't have the strength to tell his baby brother, that his father had told him he might have to kill him.

"Dean, you have to tell me what what's going on, what you're hiding from me. Don't tell me you have nothing to hide because we both know you're lying."

Dean just looked at his brother, his face blank, but Sam could see that there were tears forming in his eyes.

"Dean, please man. You gotta tell me." Sam pleaded.

"No, actually I don't. And I'm not going to." Dean replied, trying hard to keep his voice steady.  
>Sam just turned and walked away.<p>

The minute he did, Dean got flashbacks of John telling him to look after Sammy, or otherwise to kill him. He got angry then, because John was Sam's father, he was supposed to be looking out for him, and Dean, to be protecting them, but ever since Mary died it was Dean's responsibility to look after him and his little brother. He never minded it, but it's just, with Sammy growing up, he never really got to be a kid. Which pissed Dean off, he was angry, but not at himself like he usually was, but  
>at his father.<p>

Everything Dean saw was red, even the crow bar that he picked up, even the back of the Impala was red.  
>He didn't remember putting the holes in the back of the Impala, or smashing the glass of a window car that was behind him, but he remembers seeing the after math, feeling slightly better after the sudden burst of rage.<br>That's when he noticed Sam standing there. He was looking at Dean, shock on his face and worry in his eyes. They just stood where they were, looking at each other.

Dean wanted to get in the car, drive at 120 miles and never look back, but it was wrecked.

Again.

He couldn't move. He was stuck. Dean was here and his father was in hell, when it should be the other way around.

After some time had passed, he didn't know how long he had stood there staring at Sam, it felt like hours. After a while Sam walked over to him. He started stroking Dean's face, and whipping away the tears that he didn't notice were falling from his eyes onto his cheek.

"Dean, just tell me." Sam said, a slight whisper escaping his mouth.

"No, Sam." Dean could see the worry in his eyes.

"Why not?" Sam was starting to really worry about his brother.

It took Dean a few seconds to come up with something, even something pathetic as;

"Because, it doesn't matter."

"Damn it Dean! It does, I can see that that it's killing you!" Sam was starting to get angry.

"Well then you must need glasses."

"Dean, I'm your brother! I know when you're hiding something from me. I've been looking up to you since I was four, so just tell me."

"So, what do you want me to say to you Sam? That I'm sad dad is dead? Yeah, I am. There's nothing we can do."

"Dean, please. I know you have more to say. Tell me." Sam whispered.

"Okay fine! Dad's dead because of me! Are you happy?!"

"I miss him man, but I don't blame you, and you shouldn't blame yourself either. It wasn't your fault that dad made that deal with yellow eyes." Sam said with pleading eyes.  
>Dean thought about telling his brother what dad had said to him. He couldn't do it. Instead he said this,<p>

"Sam, I can't not blame myself, I feel so guilty. I don't know what to do man. I mean, should we keep looking for yellow eyes to get revenge or should we stop, because we don't have the colt anymore and we don't know how to find the son of a bitch. Or, maybe see if we can get dad back."

Dean was trying his hardest not to cry.

It took a moment for Sam to steady himself before he answered Dean.

"I think we should keep doing what we're doing. You keep working on the Impala and Bobby and I will look through Dad's research. If there is anything on yellow eyes, we will find it."

Dean had finished the last coat of paint on the Impala, making it look brand new, inside and out. Bobby and Sam hadn't found anything in John's research, not even how to hunt the thing.

Sam and Dean decided that they would stop the search for the demon, for now.

For the next few months the Winchester boys stopped hunting and went on an actual road trip. They went to the Grand Canyon, to TJ and even to Hollywood to bang Lindsay Lohan.


End file.
